


On Haru and Poetry

by intoxicatedcinnamon (orphan_account)



Series: Letters to Haru [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Love Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5375282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/intoxicatedcinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru might not get all of what poetry is<br/>or he might be getting it too well. </p><p>The written type, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Haru and Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wondered what MakoHaru would sound like from Makoto's perspective and so here is my take on it in free verse :D 
> 
> Please read in landscape mode so you get the most accurate line breaks possible
> 
> P.s. Haru will return his feelings in the end, duh
> 
> Comments (and kudos) encourage me to keep writing, so please leave one if you enjoyed this! :) Also, subscribe if you would like to be updated when I post a new work to the series (which will probably be pretty regular hehe here's hoping)

**Dear Haru,**

When you first called my mess of words a _paragraph_  
I almost choked with the offense I took

But you learned to read it—  
and I learned to write you in.  
At first it was full of clichés like  
the sky, and the colour of buildings  
and desperate attempts at symbolism in the sun but  
Google told me about _muses_  
and I realised you could be my best one yet because you never leave my mind, and  
mulling over details that I don’t have  
to squint to remember  
started accomplishing.

I remember your smile  
and the way laughter lit in your eyes when mine was the only free verse entry  
in our school’s poetry competition  
in the middle of maybe a hundred haikus: I had a hundred words.  
When I won second, you said  
_You’re good, Makoto_ and I knew that was your congratulation—  
the trophy didn’t make me half as happy as you did. I never told you  
that the two fish in my mind were  
black and brown, but I think you knew:  
You always know.

I remember talking to you about a poet I found online for a whole week  
and you would nod and press your lips together when I told you about irony—  
You’ve always liked irony best even though  
you say you don’t get the rest of it. And I read you a love letter from a woman hiding in a bomb shelter  
to her lover who was a pilot during World War II  
and you grabbed my sleeve hard, your eyes were big and full of hurt,  
You kept repeating _Do you get it, do you get it, Makoto?_ close to my face  
and for a moment, I saw the strength of feeling that you don’t often show,  
even in the water.

I told you I understood. Your grip relaxed but I saw the other sentence glimmering in your eyes  
_We were the cause of that irony_  
You’ve never been one to shy away from facts that hurt, Haru. I nodded and you let go.

But I guess, we could be good poetry ourselves, couldn’t we, Haru-chan?  
We’ve never had a form; our friendship doesn’t rhyme the regular way.  
And you own the biggest part of my heart but  
it’s that proportion that scares me,  
that makes me afraid of showing you  
exactly what it is

 Maybe you're better with poetry than you think, Haru. I've just never tried writing it for you.  


End file.
